


i might kind of like you a little bit

by asexualrey



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, More tags to be added, hand holding, lots of great stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 10:36:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7264576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualrey/pseuds/asexualrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of Klance drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. kiss me, you idiot

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Keith and Lance's first kiss

It happens at 2 am, like all regrettable-but-painfully-sincere things do, even in Altean time. 

Everyone else is fast asleep. The entire castle’s population is sleeping in the lounge room for the night; they’d passed through a weird patch in space earlier—something about a nearby blackhole, or a weird magnetic field or _something,_ Lance can’t keep track of all this complicated space science—and the castle’s power went out. Pidge and Allura and Hunk have been trying all night to reroute the feeds but have yet to succeed in finding the problem.

Naturally, the air had gotten _cold_ , so Coran had suggested they all sleep in a dog pile to share body heat. It was awkward, but eventually everyone agreed to it. Lance doesn’t have any problem with it. In fact, it’s very reminiscent of the times the power had gone out back home and he’d slept with all his siblings in the living room, not because it was cold, but because his sisters hadn’t liked to sleep alone when there was no power. He’s actually surprised by how warm and happy he feels when he’s situated on the floor between Hunk and Pidge. He can hear Allura’s soft breathing nearby, and Coran’s on the other side of her wearing a sleep mask and cuddling a mouse plushie, and Shiro is next to Pidge snoring the quietest snore Lance has ever heard.

The only one missing from the group is on the couch, his back turned to everyone and a thin blanket pulled all the way up to his ears. Normally Lance wouldn’t give a shit _what_ Keith decides to do, except that…he kind of does. He always kind of does, no matter how much he denies it.

And right now, he can see Keith shivering a little, even from his spot on the floor. He rolls his eyes because what kind of _idiot_ is so intent on maintaining his personal space that he would rather freeze to death in the night? Lance doesn’t care if Keith decides to go that way. At least, he _shouldn’t_. But how stupid would that be? To battle thousands of hostile aliens bent on galaxy-domination on a regular basis only to die in your sleep from the cold. Lance can’t accept that fate for his rival—which is definitely the only reason why he carefully extracts himself from Hunk’s arms and picks his way over to the couch.

“Why are you all the way over here?” he whispers once he’s directly behind Keith’s head.

He’s a little satisfied with himself when Keith starts. “The couch is more comfortable.”

“Yeah, but it’s _cold_.”

“I’m fine.”

Lance quirks an eyebrow, irritated that the red paladin hasn’t even turned around to look at him. “No, you’re not. You’re shivering.”

“What do you care? I said I’m fine.”

Lance huffs. “God, and you call me stupid.” Then, in a split-second decision (like most of his decisions tend to be), he lifts up Keith’s blanket and shimmies in behind him. It’s only after he’s pressed flush against Keith’s back that he thinks, _shit_ , this probably wasn’t a good idea after all. But he’ll be damned if he backs out of it now.

Keith all but launches himself upright with a tiny, high-pitched, indignant cry. “Dude, what the _fuck_ are you doing?”

Lance’s cheeks are on fire, but he only scowls. “I’m sharing my body heat, asshole! You could be a little appreciative!”

“Your feet are freezing!”

“Shh!” Lance gestures at their fellow paladins asleep on the floor. “You’re gonna wake them up!”

Keith grits his teeth and makes a rather displeased noise, but lies back down facing Lance this time. “Okay. _Fine_. But I’m only agreeing to this because I’m too tired to push you off.”

Small victories, Lance supposes.

Although, now that Keith’s face is so close to his, he’s not sure whether to count this as a victory or not. He won’t deny that very similar situations have crossed his mind before, but it’s not like he’d ever dwelled on them for long…mostly because he was sure Keith wouldn’t ever allow it.

But now Keith’s face is red, too. Lance can see it even in the dark. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s feeling a bit flustered at their proximity. He’s suddenly extremely aware of both his position and Keith’s and is hypersensitive to the way their knees and arms are touching a bit. So he does what he always does when he’s feeling embarrassed.

“Wow, Keith, if I’d known you wanted to cuddle so bad I would’ve gotten in your bed a long time ago.”

Keith’s blush deepens, as does the scowl and for one second Lance is scared he might get pushed off the couch after all. “Don’t make this weird, Lance.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s resisting it.”

Keith huffs in exasperation, but doesn’t offer a retort. Instead he shivers again and pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulder.

Lance blinks, feels a tug in his chest that might be concern. “Why’d you wanna sleep by yourself anyway? It’s a lot warmer down there.”

“None of your business.”

And, okay, that hurt a little bit. There’s a difference between Keith acting cold to get a rise out of him and Keith actually being cold. Lance would’ve liked to think they were past that. He exhales harshly through his nose and looks away. “Okay, fine. I guess I should’ve left you to freeze.”

“No, it’s not—” Keith sighs. “Look, I appreciate it. I just…I prefer being alone. You know, most of the time. Sleeping with other people, you get kicked and smothered and I don’t sleep well. It’s not—it’s not you. Specifically.”

“Oh, well, that’s a relief.”

Lance is starting to very much regret the decision to sleep on a couch with Keith. He really didn’t think this one through. The pulsing blue light from Pidge’s laptop is illuminating the planes of his face and the sharp angle of his jaw, and a few strands of jet black hair fall across his nose between his eyes and dammit all if he doesn’t look _cute_ staring up at Lance with those big indigo eyes. Lance can only pray Keith can’t see how red his face must be since the light is coming from behind his head. Even so, he can probably feel the warmth emanating from him. But it’s fine, everything’s fine. As long as he doesn’t think about it he can pretend like everything is normal.

“So you mean to tell me that being Hunk’s stand-in teddy bear doesn’t bother you at all?” Keith says.

“No.” Lance tilts his head as best he can while lying horizontal. “Why would it? My little sisters used to climb all over me during the night and let me tell you, Hunk is nothing compared to little girls. They’re all elbows and knees and he’s…squishy.”

Keith breathes out a laugh and shakes his head. “You would be the touchy one.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” Keith clears his throat and turns his face further into the couch cushion. “I just…don’t like people in my space.”

Lance narrows his eyes. “Yeah, I noticed.” Then he leans in as close as he dares, until the tip of his nose is almost touching the other boy’s. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

Keith narrows his eyes back. “Your breath stinks.”

And so, obviously, the only appropriate response is for Lance to open his mouth and exhale a big, hot breath.

Keith splutters and waves his hand in front of his face, but he also cracks a smile and laughs a little. “What is wrong with you, man?”

Lance laughs too, but almost immediately sobers when he, again, notices the way Keith is staring at him—sleepily, with his eyes partly closed like he could fall asleep any second, with the traces of a smile still on his lips. His eyes linger on them for a beat too long.

Keith notices. “This is a little weird.”

Lance’s heart rate spikes up and his gaze darts away from his rival’s lips. “What?”

“This.” He gestures between the two of them, still close enough to touch noses. “I don’t—I don’t usually like to be this close with anyone. But I don’t mind this.”

His breathing quickens and he loses all hope of Keith not noticing. “You sure are being honest tonight.”

Is it his imagination, or is Keith’s breathing picking up too? “Sh-shut up. It’s just late and I’m tired.”

Lance won’t admit it out loud, but he knows exactly what Keith means. He feels weird. Here he is, lying with the person he’s sworn to hate that he doesn’t _actually_ hate, who’s being uncharacteristically vulnerable and Lance doesn’t want to tease him for it. They’re whispering and giggling like preteen girls and Lance is _enjoying_ it.

“So…” he starts, already knowing he’s going to regret this but not really caring at the moment. “While we’re being honest, lemme ask you something. If you had to kiss one person in the castle, who would it be?”

Keith’s eyes blink wide open and the color comes rushing back to his face. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because that’s what you _do_ at sleepovers. Come on, confess.”

“I don’t have to tell you!”

“Yes, you do! It’s like…sleepover rules. Just tell me. I won’t tell anyone.”

Keith’s lower lip juts out. “No one.”

Lance makes a buzzer noise. “ _Wrong_. You have to pick someone. Like, if you had to kiss one of us or Zarkon would destroy Voltron, who would you pick?”

“That scenario doesn’t even make sense.”

Lance almost growls. “Just answer the damn question!”

Keith growls back. “Fine! If I _absolutely had_ to pick someone I guess…it would be…” His voice trails off and he mutters something so quiet that Lance can’t understand him.

“What’d you say?”

Keith closes his eyes and lowers his eyebrows, like he’s bracing himself. “ _You_ , you asshole!”

Lance blinks. When the gravity of that statement fully registers, his heart is pounding so hard and fast against his chest he’s absolutely sure Keith can hear it. His mind blanks and he can’t even come up with a response.

Keith looks as if he could burst a blood vessel; red to his ears but staring at Lance unwaveringly like he’s daring him to poke fun.

Funnily enough, poking fun doesn’t even enter Lance’s mind. “M…me?” is the only thing he’s capable of sputtering.

“God, Lance, you’re so stupid.” Keith is glaring at him, though this time Lance can’t understand what he did to provoke him. “How could you not have noticed that I’ve had a crush on you for like…a _month_? Everyone else did!”

Lance’s eyes must be the size of dinner plates. “A c—a crush? On _me_?”

“Yes!” Keith exclaims, and then follows it quietly with, “God knows why it had to be you, though.”

Out of all the things Lance expected Keith might say tonight, this was definitely nowhere on the radar. Is he—is he _happy_ about it? He’s never had a crush on _Keith_ of all people…it’s just been this weird feeling he’d get in his gut sometimes when Keith would smile or wear that tight black T-shirt or when Lance would sometimes catch himself daydreaming about what that thick black hair would feel like between his fingers—that’s not the same as having a crush, right?

But, he thinks as he gazes at Keith’s lips, maybe it _is_. Maybe he’s had a crush on him this whole time. It doesn’t feel like the infatuation that seizes him when he sees a cute girl. This is…deeper. Born from grudging admiration. Maybe even awe.

Well. There’s only one way to find out.

“Kiss me, then.”

Keith’s breath hitches. He stares at Lance, those gorgeous eyes wide and intense and burning under a furrowed brow. Then his eyelids flutter as he lowers his gaze to Lance’s mouth and he gives the subtlest of nods.

Lance is going to explode. He’s warm all over and his heart is racing like it wants out of his chest and a sweat’s broken out on his palms because _fuck_ Keith is leaning closer and now their noses really are touching.

And then— _and then_ —Keith gently, hesitantly presses their lips together.

His are softer than Lance expected. And warmer.

He’s kissing Keith on the couch in the middle of the night while the rest of the team is sleeping not six feet away. And he doesn’t hate it. He actually likes it. He should be appalled, but right now the only thing he can process is _Keith,_ tasting like space toothpaste and sleep and smelling like shampoo and clean clothes.

Keith’s hands find their way to Lance’s chest and Lance’s cup the back of Keith’s head. His fingers tangle in that damned mullet and it’s just as soft and silky as he’d imagined it to be and for some reason that kind of pisses him off. The smack of spit on skin and little moans join the soft snoring of their comrades in the quiet of the night. Their mouths work fervently against each other for ten seconds, twenty, and that easily stretches into a minute which then turns into five.

Lance is the one who finally pulls away, breathing hard. “You…you’re…”

“Don’t say anything,” Keith gasps. “You’ll ruin it.”

“I was gonna say you’re pretty good at this.”

He blushes and gives the faintest smile. “You too.”

Lance tries to slow his breathing, reaches up to smooth away a lock of black hair almost reverently. “So what does this mean?”

“I don’t know.” Keith surprises him further by tucking himself against Lance’s chest, forehead resting on his collarbone. “We don’t have to figure it out right now. I’m sleepy.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Me too.” His hands are almost automatically drawn to the smaller boy’s back.

He can’t believe this. Maybe it’s the hour of the night, but the past ten minutes feel like a dream.

He’s going to hate himself when he wakes up.

But for now…for now, this is okay.

“Hey, Keith?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you be mad at me if I farted right now?”

“Why do you have to fucking ruin _everything_?”

“I’m just asking a question.”

“Lance.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Go the fuck to sleep.”

——

In the morning, Pidge is the first to wake. He notices that Lance is missing from their group on the floor but it isn’t until he puts on his glasses that he spots one of his long, lanky legs hanging off the edge of the couch. _When did he…_ Pidge squints. He distinctly remembers Keith claiming that couch last night.

When he carefully lifts himself up from his position against Shiro’s chest, and catches a glimpse of some seriously mussed-up black hair, a wicked grin spreads across his face.

“Oh my god. Hunk, _wake up_.”


	2. he got friendly, holding my hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Getting caught holding hands

Keith has told him continuously that it’s a bad idea, but Lance keeps saying he doesn’t really care. He isn’t sure if that’s true or not, but he likes to think it is. Honestly, he just really likes holding Keith’s hand. And Keith must like holding his, too, or he wouldn’t keep tolerating it despite his apparent reservations. 

It’s nice, having a little secret with Keith. Once they decided to try and actually enter an official Relationship, Lance found himself feeling excited about all the things he was now permitted to do. Among those being linking pinkies with Keith under the dinner table and entwining their fingers. He knows it makes Keith nervous, and he kind of feels the same way. He really, _really_ doesn’t want anyone else finding out about it since they’re supposed to be sworn enemies and Lance isn’t ready to give up that facade yet, but he’s always had a tendency to be physical. And it’s kind of thrilling, holding hands under everyone’s noses. 

Tonight isn’t any different. Keith’s left hand is resting on his thigh, and Lance very smoothly reaches over and envelops the pale fingers in his dark ones. Keith throws him a sideways glance, but Lance can’t tell if he’s pleased or frustrated. All he knows is that Keith needs to stop wearing those stupid finger gloves all the time. 

Dinner progresses normally, pleasantly. Lance shovels goo into his mouth with one hand and swings his and Keith’s joined fingers back and forth with the other. He makes really dumb jokes and Keith insults him for it and nobody would ever suspect that Lance is stroking his knuckles with his thumb while they bicker. 

Hunk starts talking animatedly about something that’s apparently very exciting to him, and at some point he throws his arms out on either side of him and almost whacks Allura in the face. She drops her fork and after assuring the yellow paladin that it’s all right, she’s more than capable of picking it up herself, she gets down to her hands and knees under the table.

Unfortunately, neither Lance nor Keith thinks about the fact that their twined hands would be quite noticeable from down there until something bangs against the underside of the table, _hard_ , and Allura reemerges, rubbing her head.

All conversation dies immediately.

“Princess?” Pidge says, looking quite concerned. “Are you all right?”

Instead of answering, Allura stares and Lance and Keith with the most bewildered expression Lance has ever seen her wear. It’s honestly quite funny, seeing her squint so dramatically and tilt her head so far to the side. 

“You two…” she says, pointing at the red and blue paladins. “You’re holding hands.”

Lance’s face heats up like a furnace and his hand is suddenly very, painfully empty. “No we’re _not_ ,” he protests, too quickly, at the same time that Keith shouts the exact same thing.

He knows they just gave themselves away when Allura gets this really sly look in her eye and smiles wryly. “Yes, you were. I saw you.”

Lance risks a glance to the side and sees that Keith’s face is as red as his jacket and he looks like he wants to run and stick his head in a hole. Lance can sympathize.

“I don’t know what the _heck_ you’re talking about, Allura,” he says, raising both his hands like that’ll disprove anything and scrambling desperately for his cool, confident facade. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Not to mention, it’s _gross_ ,” Keith adds, hunching over his dinner and probably trying his absolute best to act as if he’s not bothered at all by any of this. 

“Oh, save it,” Pidge drawls, crossing their arms and looking rather bored with this whole exchange. “We all know you guys hold hands under the table like five-year-olds. And while, yes, you should be embarrassed about it, it’s not news to us.”

And, probably for the first time ever, both Lance and Keith are struck speechless. 

“But…but…but how?!” Lance splutters, cursing his silver tongue for abandoning him now.

“Pidge saw you making out in the hangar one time,” Hunk says with a shrug. “It wasn’t hard to piece things together.”

Keith, _damn him_ , immediately gets up from his seat and makes for the door. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” The door slams behind him before anyone has a chance to say anything. 

Lance makes a mental note that he’ll have to have a talk with him later about how _if_ _we’re gonna do this whole boyfriend thing, you can’t leave me hanging like that! We have to face this as a team!_ Although teamwork still isn’t their strongest suit.

He sinks down in his seat and covers his burning face with his hand. 

Shiro smiles, equal parts sympathetic and amused. “Lance, if it makes you feel any better–”

“Just…just don’t,” Lance interrupts, practically melting onto the tabletop. “Please, I’m begging you. Just don’t say anything.”

The rest of dinner is rather awkward, and the sardonic smiles that everyone shares across the table fly right over Lance’s head. The rest of the night is spent in deep contemplation of how he can disguise himself as an alien and go into hiding. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you'd like to send me a prompt, feel free to leave one in the comments or hunt me down on tumblr @glowdroid !!


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